Uncharted Waters
by summerpride
Summary: What a fool she had been, thinking that her words to him could be unsaid, her actions unperformed, her kiss unreturned. She had never imagined three simple words could invoke such pain. Pain she wished desperately to fix. An extension of the journey back from the Locker - as it's difficult to believe that Lizzie wouldn't confront Jack about her actions. J/E, with some W/E
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Probably not the best time to be starting up another story, since I'm still working on multi-chapter fic _Mutual Compromise_, but the plot bunnies struck and this was the result!

I'm not yet sure where I'm gonna take this - it started off as a short one-shot set during the journey back from the Locker, but I'm tempted to turn it into a short (perhaps four or five chapters) story fleshing out the relationship between Jack, Elizabeth and Will after the infamous Judas Kiss (sort of like a missing/deleted scenes from AWE kind of thing), since I'm inclined to disagree (or disinclined to acquiesce) that Jack and Lizzie didn't speak at all. Surely Elizabeth, at least, would want to speak to Jack and confront him about what she did?

Well, I'll have a go at trying to do that here, and at the moment I'm going to try to keep it canon-compliant, though depending on how it goes the story may stray into AU territory as it goes on :)

It'll probably turn quite angsty as I also felt throughout most of AWE that Jack wasn't quite himself (and I mean who would be if a woman he was so clearly vexed by kissed him before tying him up to the mast of his own ship, feeding him to a horrifying beastie, and then waking up and spending an indeterminate amount of time in a sea-less desert with only the aspects of his own personality for company? Eeek, it'd be enough to unsettle anyone!).

I hope you enjoy it, and please let me know what you think and whether or not you'd like me to continue :)

Reminder that I do not own POTC or its characters

* * *

"Are we going to continue not talking?"

She lingered by the cabin door, concealing her guilt and fear in the shadows that hung upon the walls of the captain's quarters. Will had asked her the same question on their way to the Locker, and in her naiveté she had told him that everything would be fine once the captain had been returned from purgatory.

What a fool she had been, thinking that her words to him could be unsaid, her actions unperformed, her kiss unreturned. She had never imagined three simple words could invoke such pain, both to her and the man who had returned them with a word that had the opposite effect, encouraging and driving her behaviour ever since. She was a pirate now, a shadowy, immoral figure that might one day be romanticised in the stories of the future, and it was all thanks to the man she'd cruelly sold out to the devil.

Jack Sparrow stood by his desk, his face half obscured by darkness, his eyes distant. His being skirted the edges of reason, almost like a spectre, haunting and haunted in equal measure. A weathered, ringed hand reached out to his desk, treating it as an older man might a crutch. She knew he was watching her, but she refused to emerge from the shadows, grateful for any vestige of comfort or safety in the dangerous and uncertain situation she had found herself in.

"Everything needed to be said between us has already been said, has it not?" Gone was the spark of humour and cavalier attitude. His tone was stoic and aloof, distanced. There was more than the space of a cabin that separated them now.

She thought back to the endless nights she'd spent imagining the moment when she laid eyes on him again, reciting the words of apology she would say to him, envisioning his reaction, but now she knew that nothing could prepare her. She'd imagined bouts of rage, anger and fury, a clamour of red and pulsing tempers as she justified her reasons and he recounted a million other ways in which she could have saved the crew from the Kraken, himself included.

Instead she was faced with a different man to the one that had proudly rebuked her non-apology with a smirk on his face. This man was troubled by demons of her making, quivering on the fine rope that divided reason from madness. The horrors he must have faced in the Locker... haunted by his worst fears, every nightmare that had ever plagued him. She was aware that, no matter the act he may play to the world, his life had been less than charmed. He'd been branded and scarred, broken and beaten before, though she had seldom seen it reflected in those obsidian eyes of his, but now it was on open display, unconcealed.

She would never be able to appreciate the true evils he had encountered in that god-forsaken place.

"Everything needed to be said, but not everything wanted to be said." She saw him gently scoff from the other side of the room and took a step forward, out of the dark, closing the door behind her. "I hated myself for what I did to you. I still do."

Jack stalked around the desk until he was stood in front of it, but his walk lacked the characteristic gait that she had come to know and love about him. There was a long moment of silence, stretching dunes of sand in a hopeless, sea-less desert. "You didn't laugh?" There was an edge of uncertainty in his voice and in that moment he seemed younger, more vulnerable. "I imagined you laughing."

Her breath caught in her throat. "How could I?" She walked forward, closing the literal distance between them, even though there were still leagues of uncharted waters yet to be crossed. "I..." the words died on her tongue, "As soon as Tia Dalma gave us hope I dedicated everything to find you again. Will can tell you. I hardly slept, hardly ate. Nothing else mattered, save you."

"I'm flattered." There it was: a flicker of mockery in his voice. She knew he was trying to be insulting, but she held onto it, welcoming that brief sense of his familiar vanity. He reached up and straightened his hat. It looked so foreign now; she was used to seeing his red bandana from those days spent in a battle of wits on their way to Isla Cruces. With it on his barriers were up, there was a wall that separated them, protecting him from her.

"You should be." Elizabeth couldn't stand it anymore. There had been too much indulging in self-pity for her liking. She didn't regret the bite in her tone. "Are you aware of the lengths I-_we_ went to in order to bring you back? And you've yet to thank us. Any of us. If it wasn't for us you'd still be on that beach, stuck in that wretched place for the rest of your days."

"I see." Her heart faltered as she perceived that same smirk on his face, full of a twisted mix of admiration and animosity. He took several purposeful steps forward, forcing her back. "You sent me to the Locker, you brought me back. You think us square."

Her back collided into the wall of his cabin but he still grew closer, until only a thin layer of air separated them. She saw fierceness and anger in his gaze but also pain and suffering, making it clear that she'd underestimated the effect his death had on his state of mind. How could anybody cope with that? Being killed, drowning, feeling your soul leave your body and then waking up as though it had never happened.

His eyes bored into her, trying to intimidate her, but she wouldn't back down. She stood up straighter, meeting his gaze but all she could manage in response was, "Yes."

Her head was spinning as he pressed closer to her, heat coursing through her body. "Then you're wrong, darlin'." He rested the palm of his hand on the wall beside her. She resisted the urge to cup his face in her hands, to feel him again, to assure herself that he was real, not a figment of her imagination. She noticed that his gaze lingered on her lips. "We're not yet square."

She caught his meaning immediately and tensed, but her eyes continued to stray to his lips, drowning in the sensation of the kiss they'd shared a moment before she'd doomed him to a fate worse than death. She thought her lust had been slaked, her guilt drowned. Didn't she understand? She loved Will. Jack didn't mean anything. She shuddered slightly as his free hand found her cheek, lightly caressing it with his calloused, tanned hands. "What do you want from me?"

"I want nothing that isn't freely given." His lips hovered close to hers, tormenting her, and she realised how much of a tease she must have been on the _Pearl_, drawing him over to her way of thinking, playing him at his own game. But it was just a game. It didn't mean anything to either of them... did it? He didn't care about her. He was a pirate. "But not wasted. Something meaningful. Lust met, but not drowned."

He was talking in riddles, words and phrases that made no clear sense, for she was lost in his eyes, submerged and fighting for air. She could hardly breathe, his hands roved over her slender frame, claiming her as his, and she didn't want to fight it. Shouldn't fight it. It felt right.

Her hands found his shoulders, tentatively at first, but she savoured the feeling of the lean muscles beneath his waistcoat and shirt. Her mind wandered, imagining his whole weight pressed against hers, but she quickly quashed it. She cupped his face, tracing along each cheekbone, his tanned and weathered skin surprisingly smooth to touch, before her fingers found his lips and brushed along them. Jack's eyes fluttered at the touch and a low groan escaped his mouth, his breathing erratic. She withdrew her hand, aware of the tumult of licentious desires whirling through her mind. "But Will..."

"Is not here." Jack seized her wrist with his hand and guided it to the sliver of bare chest unconcealed by his shirt or waistcoat. He pressed her palm into his skin, drawing a steady breath. "Not that it stopped you last time."

She frowned, unable to feel the steady beat of his heart beneath his chest. "I can't feel your heartbeat." She looked up to him and that haunted, pained look had returned. She saw the shadows in his orbs, the deep black circles under his eyes that weren't a result of the kohl.

"I died, Elizabeth. Technically speaking, I'm still dead." She felt tears prick at her eyes. This wasn't right. She was meant to save him. Once they found him everything would be alright. He couldn't still be dead. He was here. She could feel him, touch him, see him. She didn't understand.

He seemed to recognise her confusion, and he continued. "At least in a physical sense. My soul is what was sent to the Locker - all that was left of it." Jack's lip curled into what Elizabeth suspected was a smile but looked more like a grimace.

She removed her hand from his chest. "I don't understand. What will happen when we return to the living world?"

"If we return to the living world." A dark look passed over his features and he took a step back, the coldness and detachment returning. "You shouldn't have come, Elizabeth. Should have left me to my fate." With that, he turned and walked back over to his desk.

Elizabeth blinked the tears away from her eyes and left his cabin, shutting the door and hurrying across deck. Not sure where else to find solace, she took a seat on the steps that led to the deck below. She was only there a few moments before a familiar voice brought her out of her reverie.

"You left Jack to the Kraken."

Would she find no peace on this ship? She looked up and her stomach twisted itself into knots upon seeing the face of William, of her fiancé, his expression revealing a betrayal that she hadn't realised she'd inflicted.

She sighed, casting her gaze downward. "He's rescued now, it's done with." But it wasn't. She felt the tingling in her palm as it had rested against the skin of Jack's chest, the sensation of feeling his chest rise and fall but not hearing his heart beating in time with her own, the signal of a living human being, not the dead shell of a person she'd come face-to-face with only a few moments ago. This wasn't done with, not by a long shot.

She saw the pained look that passed over his face and stood up, taking a determined step towards him. "Will, I had no choice."

He didn't meet her eyes, his body turned away from her. "You chose not to tell me."

"I couldn't." Her voice was taking on a pleading tone. She didn't tell him because she wanted to protect him. Or perhaps she wanted to preserve his image of her as an innocent governor's daughter. Didn't want to alert him to the truth. "It wasn't your burden to bear."

Will turned to face her and she felt her heart fracturing, thumping in her chest, but all she could think about was Jack and what it must feel like to not have your heart beating inside, to not feel alive, to be dead and still walking the Earth. "But I did bear it didn't I? I just didn't know what it was." She opened her mouth to speak but he was faster. "I thought..."

"You thought I loved him."

Did she love him? Her feelings were a confused and tangled mess. She thought finding Jack would solve all of her problems, but they had only made them worse. She'd put his emotions and feelings towards her down to lust, and vice versa. But they had been alone in his cabin. If he'd wanted to, he could have made his move. But he didn't. _I want_ _nothing that isn't freely given._ He was still giving her a choice, even after she'd kissed him and left him chained up like a dog, served up as live bait to the Kraken.

She didn't trust herself to give Will a response, to give him the truth that he deserved. She should love him. She wanted to love him unconditionally, monogamously. But it was far more complicated than that.

She made to walk past him but he trapped her arms, pushing her against the bulkhead. She tensed at the look in his eyes. She'd never seen him like this. Jack hadn't been this firm or rough with her, and he had every reason to be. Guilt pierced her chest. She'd turned him into this. Where had the honest blacksmith gone?

But where had that innocent governor's daughter gone? Blown away by the wind, torn like a sail in a storm, twisted into a temptress and murderer. Because that's what she was.

"If you make your choices alone, how can I trust you?" Will had only come on this journey for her, because she wanted to rescue Jack to reason with her guilty conscience. And here she was throwing it back in his face.

Could he trust her? Of course not. Hadn't he learned by now that he could never trust a pirate? "You can't." She figured she should be honest about something, at least, and roughly brushed past him, heading back up on deck.

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**A/N:** Thanks for reading, I really hope you enjoyed it! Please be warned that further updates to this story may be quite slow as my main priority is my other Sparrabeth multi-chapter fic, but I'll try to update as soon as I can :)

**It would absolutely make my day if you could drop by a short review about what you liked and how my story can be improved, they really do spur me on to continue writing and updating :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews :D

Reminder that I do not own POTC or its characters

* * *

Her father was dead. It was the only reasonable and logical thought to enter her mind in those moments as she watched him float away on his rowboat, telling her that he'd send her love to her mother. _They're both dead. There's nobody left. _And it was her fault. She had been the one to leave him in Port Royal and head to Tortuga. No wonder he'd thought that she was dead. It had been months since she had seen him, weeks since she'd even thought about him.

She was a terrible daughter. And a terrible person. It was the second death on her hands, the second time she'd ruined a life. She should have taken her father with her. They could have left Port Royal together, escaped Beckett together, perhaps even found Jack together.

Will still held her in his arms, letting her cry into his chest, stroking her hair and whispering comforting words into her ears. It was the closest they'd been to each other since... and it was reassuring to know that he still cared about her, that he'd forgiven her indiscretions.

They stood like that for a long while until Elizabeth finally lifted her head to look at him, and by the sympathetic expression she was greeted with she could tell that she probably looked a mess, and she felt like one too. She tried to speak but all that come out was a muffled sob.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth." Will said as he planted a light kiss on her forehead.

Elizabeth looked up, brow creasing in confusion, finally able to find her voice. "What for?"

"It's my fault. I shouldn't have gone through with Beckett's offer. I should have found my own way to free you from prison, and then we could have fled Port Royal together, the three of us."

She broke away from him, outraged that he could even consider the thought that he held any blame in this. He had done nothing wrong. He had only been acting in her best interests, and she had thrown them back in his face. "It's not your fault, Will, it's mine. I could have taken father with me when I left Port Royal, but I didn't."

"You weren't to know, Elizabeth." He went to gently caress her face but she stepped back, shaking her head. "You shouldn't blame yourself."

"I must blame myself, Will. It's my own fault." He took a step towards her but she continued to back away from him, shrugging off his arms. "Don't! Please, Will. You can't keep treating me like I'm not a bad person!" She felt tears sting at the back of her eyes. "Don't you see? I'm the cause of all of this! If it wasn't for me we wouldn't have even had to come here!"

"If it wasn't for you we might all have been in the Locker with no hope of rescue."

Refusing to listen to his reply, she turned from him and descended the _Pearl_'s steps, and without giving it a lot of thought she pushed open the door to the captain's quarters, stepping inside. She slammed the door shut and glanced around the room, noting with slight disappointment that Jack was nowhere to be found.

She crossed his cabin, pushing open the door to his sleeping quarters, and gently sat on the edge of his bed, the bed that he had once offered to her, whilst on their way to Isla Cruces, as a gesture of goodwill. But since his return she'd insisted she bunked with the rest of the crew so that she didn't inconvenience him. If she'd asked he would probably have said no anyway. He wouldn't want his murderess anywhere near his things.

She put her head in her hands, wishing she could erase those events from her memory, wipe clean the slate and start again with Jack, with everyone. If she could go back to that moment aboard the _Pearl_, what would she have done differently? She'd never once asked Jack why he'd returned to his ship that day when he could so easily have kept rowing. He would have reached land eventually, and escaped as the Kraken took down the rest of them.

Her heart lurched and tears began streaming down her face. What if he had been planning to stay behind all along? What if he didn't need encouragement to be a good captain and go down with the _Black Pearl_? She'd sent him to his death with a Judas kiss and an 'I'm not sorry', rubbing salt into an already open wound.

She was a terrible person. It could no longer be denied.

The door creaked open and as she looked up she met eyes with the one man that invaded her thoughts and tugged at her guilty conscience. He seemed startled to see her sat on his bed, but he said nothing and crossed over to the dresser, opening a drawer and rummaging around inside.

"Tell me you won't ever forgive me, Jack." Her voice was thick and he turned at the sound, his eyes displaying the same haunted sorrow that he had expressed upon telling her that they weren't back, that they hadn't made it out of the Locker.

His eyebrows drew together, his lips forming a frown. "Why would I do that?"

She couldn't meet his eyes, choosing to look down at the wooden floorboards instead. "Because I don't deserve your forgiveness. I'm an awful person."

Jack was silent for a moment, leading Elizabeth to wonder if he was going to respond at all. Then, "If you insist."

She looked up as he turned his attention back to the dresser, his back to her. "What?"

She saw his shoulders slump and he sighed. His voice was bitter. "It's what you wanted to hear, wasn't it? You want me to tell you what you want to hear." He spun back around to face her. "You don't deserve my forgiveness, love. There. Now that's out of way, can you please leave my cabin and shut the door on your way out." He made a grand gesture at the door with his hand.

"That's all you're going to say to me, Jack?" Rising from the bed, she couldn't quite believe that Jack was capable of such spite in his words. Her eyes met his and his expression softened slightly, but it wasn't anywhere near the warm, cheeriness with which he used to address her. What had happened to _'I want nothing that isn't freely given'_?

He raised his eyebrows. "You want me to go further, Miss Swann? Fine." He wandered around the bed until he was stood on the other side. "No, I'm not going to let you cry on my shoulder, since that's the job of your fiancé, not me. And yes, I agree with you, dear ol' William does not deserve you for a wife." She flinched at the harshness in his tone, once again taken aback by the way he seemed to know her thoughts even before she did. "Why? Because he deserves somebody innocent, honest, faithful and as a consequence rather dull, all of which you are not."

What was that supposed to mean? Her gaze followed him as he crossed to the other side of the room, noting the exaggerated movements of his arms as he walked. This was all bravado. "Then who do I deserve, Jack? You?"

Jack shifted uneasily where he stood, swaying slightly. "No, but not for the reason you think." He broke eye contact, his gaze casting downward for a brief moment, and Elizabeth knew she'd pierced his armour. His voice softened, and he said with surprising earnest. "You really don't deserve someone like me, darling, believe me."

She took hesitant steps towards him, seeing that his heavily crafted facade was slowly disintegrating in front of her. "Why not? You said yourself that we were peas in a pod, very much alike, both driven by curiosity." He tensed as she approached. "We're both pirates, we both long for freedom, we both want to know what it _tastes_ like," she was now only inches from him, her lips within touching distance of his. All she had to do was take that step, take his lips in hers again. She could tell his body was betraying him: he leant closer, his lips parting for her, his breathing growing frantic. "What it actually tastes like."

She closed her eyes and her lips found his, meeting in a clash of fiery passion. She felt herself falling, freeing herself from her guilt, the taste of his lips intoxicating, addicting. Her arms wrapped themselves around his neck, holding onto him, never wanting to let go of this moment. His deft hands found her waist and gently pushed her towards the bed but before she reached it he pulled away.

"Enough." His voice was hoarse and he pulled her arms away from his neck. "We can't keep doing this, Elizabeth."

"This is only the second time." She watched as he closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. "And tell me it wasn't what you wanted. What we both wanted."

"We can't always have what we want, Elizabeth." His voice was distant again and she knew his barriers had gone back up, blocking out his emotions. "It's a sad fact of life. Instead, we have to focus on what we need to survive."

He turned from her and walked off, leading her to wonder what game he was trying to play. She needed to be able to play it better. She needed to get through to him, find the good, honest man that still lingered underneath his cold, unconcerned exterior. "Why are you doing this, Jack? I've never heard you so defeated. You're a pirate, you take what you want and don't give anything back."

"Why am I doing this?" He spun around to face her, arms outstretched in an exasperated gesture. "Why are _you_ doing this, Elizabeth? Do you like tormenting me? Does it give you a thrill to know that you can continue to charm your way around Captain Jack Sparrow, even after you've killed him?"

She bit her lip at his outburst. This was the anger she had been expecting all along, and it hurt her to see the pain in his expression. He wasn't really angry, he was hurting, and it broke her heart. They just stood, staring at one another, Jack's arms eventually dropping to his sides.

She wrung her hands together, aware that she was only making everything worse. "No, it makes me feel sick to know I've done this to you. Chaining you to the mast was selfish. I was thinking of the crew and Will, but also of myself. I didn't want to admit that I felt something for someone other than my husband and I thought with you gone Will and I could be happy again."

"And were you?"

She met Jack's eyes. "We've barely spoken since that day."

Jack paused, though his face remained stoic. After a long moment, he sighed. "I'll say it again, Elizabeth, you don't deserve me. You're never going to meet another like Will Turner. You might not deserve him, but he would never give you up. Don't throw away your chance at happiness and wedded bliss because you're not going to find it with me."

"You think I'll be happy after all of this is over? Do you think I'll be happy in Port Royal, suffocating in corsets and listening to idle gossip with no freedom whatsoever?" Her anger softened upon seeing the understanding reflected in his eyes. He knew only too well what freedom meant. _You long for freedom._ He'd recognised it in her psyche before she had discovered it herself.

Yet another example of how alike they were.

She ran her palm along her face, collapsing onto the bed. Jack was stood out of her field of vision, somewhere on the other side of the room. She just felt so tired. Tired of everything. "It's what William wants, I'm sure of it." She didn't even know if Jack was still listening, or even there, but she continued regardless. "He wants nothing more than to secure pardons for the both of us and settle back in Port Royal, getting married and having children as all ordinary families do. But that's not what _I_ want. And I don't think he should suffer merely because of my selfishness."

She heard the creaking of floorboards and looked up, watching impassively as Jack took a seat next to her on the bed. They looked at each other a moment, neither sure how to act, the awkwardness a stark contrast to their interaction a few moments ago. Jack made the first move, tentatively putting his arm around her and drawing her closer to him, and Elizabeth let her head rest on his shoulder.

"What do I do, Jack?" she said quietly, "I can't go back to Port Royal. I can't. My father's dead. There's no-one left."

His voice was tender, affectionate. She thought she would never hear that from him again. "It'll work out in the end, love."

She nodded, wanting to believe him, before looking up at him, his gaze still fixed on an undetermined point ahead of them. "Can I stay here, Jack?" His head jerked towards her. "I mean, just for tonight. I don't want to face Will again. I don't want to face any of them."

His expression betraying no flicker of emotion, he carefully withdrew his hand from her shoulder and stood up, moving towards the door. "Alright."

"Wait!" she called, prompting him to stop and turn to face her. "You can stay. I mean, only if you want to. I'm unlikely to get much sleep anyway... I can always sleep on the floor. I just know if I leave here William will be waiting for me, and I don't have the energy to argue with him again."

"Surely that would only add to the suspicion, you spending the night in the captain's cabin with said captain?" he ended as an uncertain question, raising an eyebrow in bewilderment.

She tried to smile, though it was a feeble attempt. "I hardly care for my reputation anymore."

His eyes narrowed slightly, scanning the room. "Take the bed, Elizabeth. I'll string up a hammock or something." He ran a hand through his dreadlocks, wearily. "Or, better yet, I'll just stay out here." He gestured behind him to the door that led to his main cabin, before muttering under his breath, "Sleep will only elude me anyway."

Her heart lurched, and she stood up, moving over to him and putting a hand on his arm before he could turn and leave. "Jack, I..." words failed her and she bit her lip nervously.

Jack reached up and gently brushed his thumb down her face. "Don't mention it, darling." She smiled, but his expression remained serious. "I mean it, love. If you mention it to anyone, I will think up the most heinous form of revenge." It was then she noticed the flash of amusement in his dark orbs and the ghost of a smirk that played on his lips and relaxed. "Something to make you rue the day you sought to ruin my fearsome reputation."

She laughed, for the first time feeling herself, however briefly. "I'll be sure not to, Jack." His smile broadened slightly and he gently squeezed her shoulder before turning and leaving the room, giving her hope that their relationship might be repaired, if given time.

And she was fully prepared to give it time if it meant regaining even a semblance of the carefree banter and repartee they'd enjoyed before.

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**A/N:** Thank you for reading, I really hope you enjoyed it! :) Please leave a review, they make my day! Till next time!


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